


short skirt and thigh-highs

by Karla_Writes



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossdressing Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2346164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karla_Writes/pseuds/Karla_Writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto surprises Sousuke with a sight he won't soon forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	short skirt and thigh-highs

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure some soumako shipper asked for Makoto in a school girl outfit, like a long time ago. So, here is my ~~trashy~~ contribution. 
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr: orcaliciousity
> 
> *UnBeta'd and OOC

Sousuke’s fingers stop their caress of the soft flesh beneath them. They freeze right below Makoto’s bellybutton, only moving with the inhale and exhale of each ragged breath Makoto takes. Sousuke stays quiet, sure that what he just heard must have been a mistake. The brunette shifts toward him, bed sheets rustling, and ends up with Sousuke’s fingers just above his bare ass.

“W-would it be something you’d like to try?” The question in tentative, almost whispered in a rush of warm breath. Sousuke looks down to find expectant green eyes. He doesn’t know whether to feel excited, surprised, or confused. He is even more shocked to realize that his boyfriend’s request stirs the interest of his libido.

Without giving it much thought, Sousuke quickly replies before Makoto gets the wrong idea.

“Okay.”

…

When Sousuke comes home the very next day, he is eternally grateful that he didn’t invite Rin over for dinner. His shoulders sag as he leans against the closed door, eyes glued to the enticing creature before him. Makoto gasps softly in surprise before dropping down on the couch to hide attire.

“You’re early to-today.” Makoto mutters against the backrest of the couch, his eyes nervously roaming Sousuke’s figure. Sousuke can see a hint of a blush creeping over Makoto’s cheekbones.

“Just last night you…” Sousuke trails off, finally reacting to the scene in front of him. He props himself off the door and slowly makes his way to the flushed brunette. He wanted, no, he needed to get a good look at Makoto’s outfit. His heart nearly stops when he rounds the couch and gets a full view of the tiny scrap of cloth that was supposedly a skirt; it just barely covers the boy’s supple backside.

“Don’t turn around.” Sousuke barks out, voice hoarse and thick with lust when Makoto attempts to move. Makoto’s back straightens, his golden skin visible through the thin material of the white, button-down blouse he has on. The blouse is tucked into the short, plaid skirt, emphasizing Makoto’s trim waist. The skirt sways then, moving with the shift of Makoto’s knees. That’s when Sousuke notices the long black socks currently wrapped around Makoto’s legs, reaching all the way to the boy’s shapely thighs. Sousuke can feel his pants grow tighter as a familiar hunger spreads throughout his body.

“Do you… like it?” Makoto’s timid tone causes Sousuke to snap back to focus. He approaches the still brunette eagerly, getting rid of his jacket and shirt in mere seconds. When he is only inches away he speaks again.

“How long have you had this?” He asks, slowly dragging his finger down Makoto’s back. Makoto shivers when his finger stops at the top of the skirt.

“A week.” The reply is just above a whisper. Sousuke hums before moving his fingers lower, tracing them over the curve of Makoto’s pretty ass. His interest piques when he feels the outline of the underwear Makoto must be wearing underneath. A slow grin begins to form on his lips.

“Have you been dressing up like this every day while I was out, Mako-chan.” Sousuke doesn’t know where the impulse to call him that comes from. He is gifted with a sharp intake of breath. Makoto shifts again, the skirt hiking up a bit revealing more tantalizing skin, and spreads his legs. Sousuke’s hands reaches out, heart drumming in his ears.

“I,” Makoto’s voice causes his hand to freeze just above the boy’s right thigh, “I wanted to get used to it. The skirt and all.” Makoto mumbles. Sousuke can practically see the boy’s eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, lower lip trembling and face a scorching pink. He wants to flip Makoto over and kiss him senseless, but he is enjoying this view too much.

“Well, you look gorgeous dressed like this.” Sousuke breaths out, finally dragging his fingers against the hard flesh of Makoto’s thigh. The skin prickles and a tremor runs down Makoto’s body. Sousuke places his other hand on Makoto’s left thigh, rubbing and caressing him until Makoto is a panting mess.

He can hear his own harsh breathing mingle in with Makoto’s as he lifts the skirt up, revealing black, lacy panties with tiny, silver bows attached to the sides.

“Fuck, Makoto.” Sousuke groans, dropping down to his knees. His face is only inches away from Makoto’s delicious-looking, panty-clad ass. With his mouth watering, Sousuke hooks his fingers around the thin material and pulls them down, just below Makoto’s ass. Sousuke hears the brunette moan as he spreads his cheeks apart with his thumbs, his cock straining against his trousers when he sees Makoto’s hole is wet and shiny.

“You’ve been playing with yourself.” Sousuke growls, leaning in closer, licking his lips.

Makoto whimpers, dropping his head into his folded arms when he feels Sousuke’s slick tongue against the cleft of his ass. His face is so hot he vaguely thinks it’ll actually melt off. His knees buck when Sousuke drags his tongue over his hole, which he worked on for nearly half-an-hour before Sousuke returned from work.

“A-ah, Sousuke…” Makoto curves his spine and grips the backrest of the couch when the wet appendage breaches his hole. He feels Sousuke’s large, long fingers kneading the flesh of his ass all the while his tongue teasing him to the point of madness.

Makoto tries to push back against the man’s face, wanting more, something bigger, longer, that’ll go much deeper, but Sousuke’s stone-like grip has him rooted. He whines and quickly tries to muffle his embarrassing sounds with his hand.

Sousuke’s tongue is plunging in a little deeper now. He can feel Makoto’s entire body trembling with anticipation, with unreleased need. He can hear the erotic little moans Makoto tries to suppress; even after all this time the brunette is still self-conscious about the reactions Sousuke is able to wrench out of him. He would love to see Makoto’s face when he comes. Would his eyes glaze over and dilate, or would he squeeze them shut? Would there be an adorable rosy tint to his cheeks? Would his mouth form around a choked moan, or would he bite his lip in order to keep quiet?

The closer to the edge Sousuke brings him, the louder Makoto gets. In his current state he is unable to produce anything else except for Sousuke’s name. He repeats it over and over, with broken, breathless words. He is now longer trying to cover his mouth because it’s useless. He feels as if he needs to let out everything he has.

Sousuke swipes his tongue over Makoto’s entrance, groaning in approval when the puckered hole twitches at the attention it’s receiving. He does it again, and again, and again, until he can hear his name come out in wails from Makoto’s lovely lips, now attached with the word please.

 

He knows that all he has to do now is reach around and take Makoto’s cock in his hand in order for the other to come undone, but he’d rather not sully their brand new couch. Not after all the stores they visited, all the hours spent browsing for the one that matched the furniture they already had. Makoto was quite a stickler for coordination, something Sousuke had instantly found endearing. Pulling back from the brunette’s addictive and lust-inducing bum, Sousuke gave a cheek one final squeeze before speaking.

“Turn around, Mako-chan.” Sousuke smirks when the groan of disappointment that had fallen from Makoto’s lips turns into a soft gasp. Makoto quickly swivels around, eyes instantly locking with his. The green in Makoto’s eyes is nearly gone, his eyes dark and misted. His lips are a bruising red, matching his cheekbones beautifully. Sousuke is smitten once again.

“Lift your shirt up for me.” Sousuke orders, coming to rest in-between Makoto’s spread legs. Makoto licks his lips as he grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, just above his nipples. Sousuke, making sure Makoto’s eyes are on him, brings his thumbs to his mouth and licks them.

Makoto bucks his hips upward when Sousuke thumbs rub against his nipples. The jolt of pleasure this action produces goes straight to Makoto’s cock. He writhes against the couch as Sousuke flicks and teases his nipples, another part of his body that is extremely sensitive to stimulation. Makoto throws his head back when the material of his skirt begins to graze his cock.

Just a little more, just a _little_ more.

“No, please, fuck!” The words slip out when Sousuke hands leave his chest.

Sousuke chuckles upon seeing the frustrated look on Makoto’s face and hearing the word Makoto only reserves for the bedroom, on occasions. When his impromptu laugh earns him a teary-glare from the blushing brunette, Sousuke decides to finally end his teasing. He stretches over to place a soft kiss to Makoto’s lips before returning to his kneeling position.

Without warning, Sousuke pushes the skirt aside and bends down, taking Makoto’s cock into his mouth. Makoto screams and winds his fingers into Sousuke’s ebony hair. He doesn’t last long. Sousuke sucks on the head and prods the slit with his tongue while one hand goes further down to fondle Makoto’s balls. The brunette grinds and gasps, before he spills himself inside Sousuke’s mouth.

Sosuske swallows down the bitter, but not entirely unpleasant, come and untangles himself from Makoto’s limp fingers. He stands, slightly uncomfortable do to his still raging hard-on, and gives Makoto a pointed look.

With limbs as if made of water, Makoto awkwardly stands in front of Sousuke only to drop down to his knees. Sousuke runs his fingers over Makoto’s jaw, his cheeks, and finally his lips, his blood heating in anticipation.

“Now, I’ll serve you, Y-Yamazaki-san.”


End file.
